


Hints

by Wolf_Storm



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/M, M/M, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Post-The Sign of Three, Pre-His Last Vow, The Sign of Three Spoilers, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_Storm/pseuds/Wolf_Storm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sherlock, I’d like it if you were honest with me and told me when you fell in love with my husband.”</p><p>Following her return from her honeymoon, Mary Watson secretly visits Sherlock with a delicate matter concerning his and John's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hints

**Author's Note:**

> This work is written in third person, present tense.  
> The author does not consent for this work to be used in public presentation without her permission. Thank you for understanding.

Sherlock doesn’t hear the steps up the stairs until there’s a light knock on the door. He lifts his eyes from the microscope, startled, and rises from the chair in the same moment as the door to the flat screeches open and Mary Watson enters the kitchen.

Sherlock blinks at her several times. Shouldn’t the Watsons still be on their honeymoon? They should be returning next weekend. He was supposed to pick them up at the airport. Next weekend, surely, unless he lost time again?

“Mary,” he says warily.  


“Hi, sweetheart,” she greets back, smiling at him. The morning sun shines through the windows, illuminating her slightly tan skin and circles under her eyes. She recognizes the source of his confusion fairly quickly, adding: “Oh, we decided to return back a bit sooner. Too hot, you know, and I wasn’t feeling to well… Well, we arrived a few hours ago but thought you might still be sleeping.”

“I wasn’t,” he replies, somewhat reassured by the fact that there is no mistake on his part.

“Well, not that we knew,” Mary says lightly. Her eyes dart back and forth around the room.

“Is John coming too?” Sherlock asks after a few moments of awkward silence. That’s odd. He’s not usually awkward with Mary. They get along really, really well. Truth is that Mary isn’t often making surprise visits when Sherlock is in his pyjamas and nightgown because he was too lazy to change.  


“No, John’s sleeping at home. Jet lag,” Mary explains. Her body posture doesn’t relax at all despite her friendly smiles. “Listen, darling, there’s something I wanted to talk about with you…”

“Yes?”

“Come here,” she says and grabs his elbow, leading him to the sofa. They sit, half-facing each other. Mary seems to be searching for words, which only confuses Sherlock further.

“Right,” Mary decides a minute or two later and turns to Sherlock, but doesn’t really look him in the eyes. “Right. See, I know that I’m not probably the right person to ask you this, but…”

“What’s going on?” Sherlock inquires. He has no idea what’s going on to be honest. Is Mary going to ask him to be a godfather to their child and feels it’s John’s job actually? He wouldn’t say no to her, though he might question her choice a bit…

“’Kay,” she nods and takes a deep breath, exhales, and inhales again. “Fine. Sherlock, I’d like it if you were honest with me and told me when you fell in love with my husband.”

Every conscious thought freezes in the detective’s brain in the matter of a second. He stares at his best friend’s wife, seeing every detail about her and none at all at the same time, feels his heart running like a racing horse in his chest, blood thrumming in his head, his mouth going suddenly dry and his hand muscles flexing on their own accord. He doesn’t really know what Mary means by the question, she must be mistaken, he would hardly… but then it hits him that she’s right. He’s never dared to name the feeling he had for John Watson, never used any label for it because he didn’t know what it was, only that it was stronger than him and he couldn’t possibly fight it if he tried, it was just sentiment and human error and he should have never let it rule his head-

“Sherlock, love, breathe,” he hears somewhere in the distance and something, probably a hand, but could be a poison dart too, pokes him in the shoulder. Then, something warm and soft strokes his cheek and forces him to blink and snap out of his haze. He sees Mary sitting closer to him, holding her right hand to his face, her eyes and mouth drawing painful, concerned lines that twist at his heart. Oh, she knows. She knows and it’s horrible that she knew before he did, that he was so transparent, that he’s ruining everything again.

“I’m so sorry, Sherlock,” Mary whispers and without warning hugs the detective, holding onto him as if their lives depended on it. “I’m so sorry, darling. So, so sorry.”

It takes a while for Sherlock to find his voice again, and when he does, he realizes that tears are stinging in his eyes. “Mary… I tried not to, I swear. I-I didn’t want to…”

He sounds oddly hollow, the way he does when he gets cold once in a blue moon. Quickly he bites his lower lip to stop it from shaking as the tears finally drop down his cheeks. He feels as if somebody took a dagger and stuck it into his chest and twisted it over and over again. He wants it to stop, he wants to hate Mary for concluding this for him but he can’t because it isn’t Mary’s fault, it’s entirely his malfunctioning brain turning onto him, it’s his own damned sin against the greater good and he has no one to blame but himself.

“I know, love,” she whispers and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve known for some time. John doesn’t, he has no idea, love, but I knew. Well, I suspected. There were hints, and… the wedding, your speech, what you told us later, it was so raw, Sherlock, so open and beautiful and when I thought about it later, it just…” Instead of finishing the thought, she squeezes him tighter and presses a kiss into his hair.

“I-I don’t know,” he finally utters, unexplainably spent in the matter of mere minutes. “I really don’t know when. I’m sorry, Mary, I didn’t want to-“

“Shhh,” Mary hushes him. “I know, I know. It’s not your fault, Sherlock, it’s not.” He wants to believe her, and her arms are soothing and warm and while he feels like being cut open and twisted inside out, like a bullet made of ice and acids was lodged in his chest and it still isn’t enough to kill him. He doesn’t know how that is possible. Air catches in his windpipe and for a moment he feels like suffocating. Finally, it comes out and sounds distressingly like a sob.

Mary drops another kiss into his hair and loosens her hold on him. Sherlock quickly lowers his head, not wanting her to see him in such a state but Mary surprises him again by sweeping the tears that run freely down his cheeks with her fingers. When he looks up, he sees that her expression isn’t one of contempt or anger but rather one of sadness, of compassion and a hint of pity. He doesn’t want her pity, he doesn’t want any of this, he actually wants to go back to how he was before he met John because nothing hurt back then, but most of all he wants what Mary has right now.

“Sherlock,” she whispers, taking him by the hands. They’re so warm compared to the meaning of her next words. “Sherlock, listen to me. Let’s not tell John, okay?”

He blinks at her, stunned, eyes burning uncomfortably. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s not tell John,” Mary repeats, looking earnest and sincere and not at all malicious. “Sherlock, be reasonable. What do you think he’ll do if he finds out, hm? I’ll tell you: he’ll start questioning everything, Sherlock. He’ll be unsure and confused and will blame himself for causing you pain. that’s what he’ll do, love, and eventually, he will start avoiding you because he’ll think that it would spare you pain. Do you see? It’s best if he doesn’t know, darling. For your own good, we’ll keep it a secret, alright?”

Every new word is a new arrow into Sherlock’s already pierced heart but he hears her out and the part of his brain that is masochistic and more prominent now has to agree with her. He knows that what Mary proposes makes so much sense. Sparing John pain of any kind is always worth everything else in the universe and he’ll always go for it. What is good for John is good for the humanity in the long run. Only thing he isn’t sure of is whether or not he can pull this off. If Mary saw through it so well… he must be broadcasting really. Going back through his memory he starts realizing how transparent he’s been and now that he knows it, he’s amazed that John is still oblivious to it. It’s only a matter of time before John puts two and two together if he hasn’t started to come up to it already. That would be a disaster because John doesn’t feel the same way. He’s got Mary and a child on the way, for goodness’ sake. He just isn’t the same way and never will be so all of this is really just a nuisance from Sherlock’s part. An excellent way to ruin everything he fought so hard to save and keep. 

Mary is right, of course – the only ultimate outcome if John finds out about the true nature of Sherlock’s feelings for him is him starting to avoid spending time with the detective. They will be awkward together, they won’t know what to do and say to each other and each other and eventually they’ll fall out and stop meeting altogether and Sherlock would rather go back to Serbia and die in the cold underground hellhole from the plague than having this happen.

He’s aware of nodding his head and murmuring something like “yes” and “please don’t tell him” and then Mary is caressing his cheeks and hair again and it’s so, so calming right now that he entirely forgets that he actually doesn’t like people touching him all that much. Maybe only – he aborts the thought right there but it’s rooted enough to force another sob out of his throat. This is pathetic, he hasn’t really cried since his last withdrawal. He loathes being reduced into this snivelling mess but how could that be helped now?

Mary is still here, still not repulsed by his disgusting breakdown. She looks concerned, even. “I won’t come between you,” she says after a while, when his breathing evens out a bit again. “I won’t stop you from seeing and working together, Sherlock, I really won’t. He needs you too. Not like this, though. I’m so sorry, Sherlock, I truly am. Just not tell him and it will all be okay, darling, alright?”

Sherlock doesn’t really think so. He will never be alright again, that much he can tell, but he sees what Mary means. He must pull the shattered pieces together and start pretending, or he’ll lose John forever, which might be better for John in the long run but he can’t help being at least a bit selfish in this. He needs time, though. He needs to create a plan to proceed because he doesn’t trust his acting abilities the least bit right now. The most he manages to do to let Mary know about his thought is nodding again. He’s too exhausted to speak. The only thing he feels up to right now is crawling under some piece of furniture and dying there, that would be merciful.

Mary sighs. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” she asks softly, drawing soothing circles between his shoulder blades. He manages another nod and hides his face in his hands. The misery isn’t passing, quite the opposite, it’s drawing on him in another wave. Faintly, he hears Mary saying something but doesn’t pay enough attention to decipher what and a few moments later he’s alone in the flat. He hears footsteps down the staircase behind the closed door.

He’s sensible enough to deduce that Mrs Hudson will be up in a while with snack or lunch or whatever she decides to bother him with today so he heavily lifts himself from the sofa, walks over to his bedroom and locks the door behind himself before crawling under the sheets, finally free to cry the heartbreak out. A text message from John beeps around five in the afternoon. Sherlock replies to it, saying that he’s on a case, very busy, doesn’t need any help and suggests that John uses the rest of his holiday to go to visit his sister and take Mary with him. John finds that an excellent idea and with a “see you next week, then,” retreats from Sherlock’s foreseeable future.

He doesn’t leave his bed until late evening when a woman by the name of Lady Smallwood visits him with a family matter that promises the so much needed excuse to hide for an extended period of time from the rest of the world and John Watson in particular.

* * *

 

As Mary walks home from the bus station, she reviews the whole meeting in her head. Her actions are justified by all means. She helped Sherlock to realize something he was obviously struggling with for a long time, obviously. He’s a big boy. He’ll get through this, no doubt. Worse things have happened. It’s not like this could keep going on any longer – Sherlock was driving himself mad and sooner or later he’d crack and take John with him. No, what she did was the right thing. She likes Sherlock a lot and hates that she had to be the one to rub his nose in the smell of reality but needs must. Now that the cards are laid out, they can finally be proper friends.

Playing on Sherlock’s emotions and need to protect John at all costs was dirty, yes. But this way, he at least fully realizes the consequences that would follow if he kept fooling himself for any longer. Mary fears a bit that John might really leave her for Sherlock. Not straight away, surely not. John is too responsible to abandon a pregnant wife, she’s sure of that. But in time, they might start growing apart and before she knew, John would be spending far too many nights in Baker Street doing God-knows-what. It’s Sherlock who will pay the ultimate price, that’s true, and she does feel quite bad about that, but it is for the best. He will keep distance now. For how long, Mary doesn’t know, but she’s sure it will be long enough for her to come with several reserve plans had the silly man slip up on his role. She would hate to have put him out of the way any harsher than she already did but if he talked? What other options did he leave her with?

Family comes first at all times and right now, Mary Watson is prepared to protect her familiar bliss at any costs.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lads and lasses! I hope you enjoyed this story or at least weren't too disgusted with it. I tried to do the characters some justice. Also, this is un-beta-ed and since English isn't my native language, feel free to let me know if you find any errors so I can correct them.  
> I might need to state that despite Mary being rather a mean person at the end of this story, I do really like her as a character.  
> Anyway, leave a comment if you like, or follow me on [ tumbr](wolflioness.tumblr.com)!


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